Hagrid's big head didn't quite take it in at first.
He stared blankly at Sean, then at the letter.
"Transformation biscuits are…"
Sean nodded.
…
Hagrid got his wish in the end.
Inside the hut stood a fat orange cat bigger than a dog.
He'd had to eat twenty biscuits to turn into a cat—Sean figured that was normal even if Hagrid were the size of a house.
Cat-Hagrid and Fang were staring at each other; Fang gave a booming bark, then carefully went over to groom the fat orange cat.
Sean sent off the fresh batch of Animal Party biscuits. White Owl, his owl, neatly hooked the parcels and glided quietly away from Hogwarts.
The shop's backorder list was too long; Sean had practically gone all-out to restock in a single afternoon.
Exhausted, he bit into a biscuit, ready to slip back into cat form to take the edge off—only to see Hagrid cheerfully eating the rock cakes he'd given Sean.
Not only that—cat-Hagrid was reaching a paw up toward the rafters, where game birds and hams hung to dry.
Bear in mind, rock cakes had nearly broken Ron's teeth; most people wouldn't want to sample that delicacy.
Did that mean that even after transforming, some human habits—or some unique intent—still carried over?
If you guided those parts—or even used Legilimency to plant suggestions—could a wizard retain some part of their will?
Either way, it was a direction worth exploring.
When Hagrid came back to himself, he said he felt "as comfy as after a lie-in," which was novel to hear.
Most students who'd used the transformation biscuits barely remembered anything.
When Sean left the hut, Hagrid walked him out a long way, reluctant to part.
"Take some rock cakes, go on—I'm sorry Fang pinched so many!"
Hagrid patted Fang's head; Fang grumbled in wounded protest.
"Take some incense, too—then, when you're near the Forest edge, Fang can find you."
"Shh—"
Hagrid added, lowering his voice:
"Listen—when you come to me, we've got to be very careful. Some things students shouldn't be doing. But you love magical creatures—and you made transformation biscuits—so I'm not doubting you.
I can sneak you to the edge to see beasts you'd never expect, but you must stick close to me—some of 'em have tempers."
Sean nodded and set a very large box of transformation biscuits in Hagrid's hands.
Hagrid beamed.
"I'm happy to help you learn about magical creatures—just don't let Professor Minerva McGonagall find out…"
…
Hagrid is one of the Hogwarts wizards with the widest contact with magical creatures. Even the Forbidden Forest has centaurs, unicorns, thestrals, bowtruckles… With his help, many problems in Sean's magical-creature series were solved.
Hagrid didn't just let Sean see them—he helped him understand them.
After all, he'd be Hogwarts' next Care of Magical Creatures professor.
Back in the Hope Nook, Sean found everyone a little tense.
"I have to play," Harry was telling them. "If I drop out, the Slytherins will think I'm afraid—too scared to face Snape. I want to show them… if we win, we'll wipe those smug grins off their faces for good."
"So long as we don't have to carry you off the pitch," Ron said.
"We still don't know who that person is, Harry. It's too dangerous," Hermione said.
Sean glanced at them, then remembered—Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff was in a few days.
"We need to find him," Justin said firmly. "Even if he tries something against Harry, we'll be ready.
Whether he acts this time or not—if he's targeting Harry, he'll show himself. Our goal is to identify him and report to Headmaster Dumbledore."
"We'll split the pitch," Justin continued. "Neville—can you watch the south stands?
Hermione—the east; Ron—the west. I'll watch the staff table and the north. If anything happens, we'll signal with this—"
He pointed to the big banners floating overhead. The color-changing ink flashed POTTER WINS. He waved his wand and cast Finite so the ink would stop shifting.
Everyone by the fire nodded.
In fact, once they'd got the story out of a miserable-looking Harry, the Nook had been debating for days.
"Remember—red sparks for emergencies—and the fireworks I gave you.
I'll tell Sean our plan. If he agrees, we go exactly as discussed…"
Everyone nodded again and watched Justin step to the fire-lizard-ringed table.
"Mm." Sean nodded; he pretty much knew what Justin would say next.
"I'll keep watch."
Justin's mouth quirked up; together they locked the final details.
Seeing everyone scrambling on his behalf, Harry suddenly felt like a cannonball had hit him in the chest.
He stared, wordless.
Justin noticed at once.
"Oh, no pressure, Harry. Remember our deal?
When it's our turn, trust me—you'll do better than we will."
…
A round table appeared in the Hope Nook. Justin thought it was odd to hold meetings on sofas, so Ron threw himself into transfiguring a big table—and turned the boards into a snapping dog instead.
Sean neatly dispelled it, then flicked his wand and formed an elegant round table.
He hadn't aimed for any symbolism—but there were exactly seven seats.
They all left the head chair open by unspoken agreement, then, buzzing with excitement, launched into the Protect Potter Plan.
The name was a bit on the nose—and made Harry too embarrassed to lift his head.
So Justin renamed it "The First Round Table Plan" and, as if it were nothing, wrote Leader: Sean Green at the top.
That only raised their excitement, and they spent every spare moment discussing how to flush out the hidden threat in Hogwarts.
Sean felt like he'd blundered into the Middle Ages—how had he become "leader" without doing anything?
"Oh, Sean—you truly don't see how important you are.
I swear, if you weren't here, I'd never have dared propose this plan.
It's because you'll be watching from the stands that we dare face an unknown danger.
Like when we faced the troll—if you're there, we believe we won't end up in real danger."
That was how Justin put it.